VICTORIAN HANGOVER
Chapter 15
Orphanage
Although I had gone to the Orphanage primarily as a purely temporary measure, it
very soon developed into a permanency. My parents appeared only too thankful to
have found something to do with me, and Mother was overjoyed that I should be
employed on such obviously “good work”, and in a strictly Christian atmosphere.
My chief duties were conducting the school, for all education was given on the
premises, and as Aunt Janey found it impossible to get anyone else, she was
thankful for me to stay on. Being direct from school myself I probably organized
the classes and curriculum on far better lines than did the elderly spinsters
who formed the greatest percentage of available helpers.
Class distinctions
The conditions under which we lived had remained almost unchanged for sixty
years. Class distinctions were a fetish, the members of the staff were known as
“the ladies”, the children had to curtsey to Aunt Janey when passing her, or if
she spoke to them, and everyone, children and ladies alike, stood up when she
came into the room. The children never went outside the premises except on
Sundays to Church, and for an occasional dismal crocodile walks, and as they
outgrew the schoolroom they were trained for all forms of domestic work about
the house. The enormous quantity of laundry was all done on the premises by the
older girls, and each one was given a period of so many months training as
kitchen maid, scullery maid, cook, chamber maid, house maid, sewing maid and
parlour maid. The domestic training was absolutely first class, and as each girl
finished her full training at the age of about eighteen, Aunt Janey found her a
good post in private service. Her girls had always been known for their
excellent training and beautiful manners, and there was always a long waiting
list of would be mistresses anxious to get one of her girls. Although they all
came from the most appalling homes, yet by constant contact with educated people
all the children spoke beautifully, in fact it was most amusing to hear a common
voiced little newcomer being sternly reprimanded and corrected in her speech by
the old hands. The ladies had to be addressed as “M’am” or “Please M’am”, which
caused endless confusion among the tinies, usually resulting in a spluttered
“zez-’m,” or "zez-a-p'ease-m'am," or even “zez-p'ease-zez-’m.” They had not the
slightest idea what it meant.
All the children wore their hair parted straight in the middle from forehead to
nape, each side being tightly plaited and the plaits wrapped round the head and
secured with red braid. In addition to keeping the hair out of the way, Aunt
Janey maintained that this style encouraged the hair to grow. Whether this
acutely unbecoming hairdo actually had that effect I do not know, but the fact
remains that, without exception, every one of the girls had the most magnificent
head of hair. Little newcomers would arrive with scraggly wisps, almost too thin
and meagre even to plait, and within a year or two they had all grown the same
long rippling manes. One thin, scrawny little creature of about twelve, who had
spent most of her life at the Orphanage, had the most glorious mass of dull
blond hair which reached almost to her ankles.
Their clothes were good and solid and warm, but utterly hideous. The outfits
were passed down from one to the other, and some of the outdoor uniforms must
have been quite forty years old. These consisted of coats of enormously thick,
heavy black material, lined with red flannel. Round the shoulders were three
capes, the widest covering the shoulders, then a medium one, and the smallest
forming a collar. Each was lined and edged with red flannel. Attached above
these was a hood, also red lined, which was worn over the head and tied under
the chin, the front being turned back to form a wide red edging. In the house
they wore varyingly hideous frocks, most of which had been donated by friends of
Aunt Janey over the years, covered by the aforementioned pinafores of grim
design. Their underwear was equally dour, arid their stockings were of black or
grey wool, many of them being the heelless horrors which were met with during
the war years. Their clothing was certainly plentiful, if not beautiful, for it
was held that children should be well wrapped up. So efficiently was this tenet
put into practice that during the cold weather the smaller ones went about
looking like little barrels, their clothes standing out in a ledge round their
necks by sheer number of layers.
Not one of the children possessed any garment of any attraction whatever, in
fact none of the garments actually belonged to any child in particular, but were
doled out from a common store each week according to sizes. Though it was never
recognised at the time, this utter starvation of all their natural feminine
instincts for pretty clothes was undoubtedly at the root of all the petty
pilfering that went on. All the ladies were warned to keep every drawer locked,
and even to keep their bedroom doors locked except just during the time that the
rooms were being cleaned, which was always done under supervision. But despite
every precaution, small articles were everlastingly disappearing, and it was
noticeable that these were invariably things of a pretty and colourful nature,
such as lace handkerchiefs, bits of lace and bright ribbon. Nothing of real
value was ever missed. Though the children had not the slightest opportunity of
using or wearing these articles undetected, yet the mere possession of them
seemed to be imperative. Occasionally a raid would be made on all the beds.
Under the eagle eye of the lady on duty, each child had to take her bed entirely
to pieces, right down to the under mattress, and almost invariably some pathetic
little collection of treasures would be disclosed.
In these days of the intensive study of child psychology it is terrible to
recall the living conditions of those children. But it must be borne in mind
that when Aunt Janey started her Orphanage these conditions were absolutely
first class by comparison with the normal living conditions of the poor. Besides
which the children were being brought up to be “servants”, and were therefore
treated as all servants were treated even in the kindest and most considerate
Victorian households at the time.
Dormitories
The dormitories were up in the attics under the roof. They were bleak, dark
rooms with sloping ceilings and small dormer windows, the floors were bare
boards, and the paintwork - where paint existed was a dull and useful brown. The
three main dormitories opened on to a small landing where was an old fashioned
fishtail gas jet. All doors were kept open, and the only light which penetrated
the dormitories came from this one jet on the landing. Two slip rooms had been
partitioned off from the dormitories for the use of the staff, for the children
had to be under constant supervision, day and night. One of these rooms was only
partitioned by un-papered match boarding, and the children had poked out several
knots in the wood, thus making convenient spy-holes through which they could
watch the lady at her toilette. Both the bedrooms had a small curtained window
looking into the dormitories, for the purpose of allowing the ladies to keep eye
on the children, but the unofficial peepholes were in far more constant use,
When discovered by the outraged lady concerned, they were immediately pasted
over with bits of paper, but within a very short time they invariably
reappeared.
The other room, which I occupied during most of my time there, was under a long
slope of the roof, which came so low that it was impossible to sit up in bed.
The only window was an extremely heavy skylight which let in the rain in wet
weather, and made the room like an ice house in winter, and a furnace in summer.
My living conditions of austerity and discomfort were almost as severe as those
of the children. Aunt Janey and the older ladies had quite reasonably nice rooms
on the first floor, where was also the babies’ dormitory. The children’s
playroom was in the basement, a dark, dismal place with a very narrow slipway
about three feet wide outside, on the other side of which the ground rose
abruptly almost level with the tops of the windows. It was lit by one gas jet,
and warmed by a very inadequate gas stove. The floor was bare boards and there
were several long bare tables and benches for meals, In this one room all the
children lived and moved and had their being for most of the time. At the back
was a very extensive garden, and a large area next to the house was given over
as a playground. Round three sides of this ground were shelters where the
children spent most of their free time when the weather was fine enough.
Food
The children’s food was exceedingly plentiful and wholesome, but by modern
standards, too monotonous, stodgy and filling for words. Breakfast consisted for
six days of every week, of porridge and weak tea. The porridge was carried
through from the kitchen in huge
cauldrons and dumped on the end of one of the tables.
Here the lady on duty walloped it out by means of an
enormous ladle into enamel
bowls, which the child on duty dealt round the tables.
The tea arrived in big enamel jugs, and was poured into enamel mugs and
dealt
round in like manner.
On Sundays the great treat for breakfast
was bread and margarine, and on Easter Sunday, and I believe on
Christmas Day, they rose to the dizzy heights of an egg each.
In the ordinary way there was nothing else for breakfast but porridge,
though they could have as many helpings as they wished. I loathed being on
breakfast duty. Most of the children gobbled their porridge quite happily, but
there was one little thing who literally could not eat porridge. Hating porridge
myself, I had the utmost sympathy for her, but it was my detested duty to see
that every bowl was scraped clean. When breakfast was over I would dismiss the
children to the supervision of another member of the staff for bed-making, and I
then had to stand over poor little Amy until every morsel of porridge had been
swallowed. She was quite a sweet little thing, only about five or six, and did
not mean to be naughty, but I could see her choke and retch over each mouthful,
while silent tears poured down her cheeks. I felt a perfect brute, and did my
best to encourage her to get it down, but I dared not let her off, as the news
would have got all round at once, and I could not disobey Aunt Janey’s orders.
At length, after a number of these painful sessions with Amy, I mentioned it to
Aunt Janey, and eventually she was persuaded to allow Amy to have plain bread
for breakfast instead of the loathly porridge.
Midday dinner usually consisted of a vast stew containing meat, vegetables and
suet dumplings of a solid and rubbery consistency. This stew arrived in the same
cauldrons as the porridge, and was doled out in the same way. There was also a
pudding of a stodgy and filling nature, and as many helpings were permitted as
quantities would allow.
Tea consisted of slices of bread and margarine with weak tea. On Sundays dinner
comprised a roast joint with the usual vegetables, and for tea there was bread
and jam. The weekday meals were so unvarying throughout the year that the slight
changes on Sundays were hailed as weekly treats, and served to add to the
attraction of the day. This was the last meal of the day for most of the
children, as they all went to bed very early, but the older girls who worked in
the house and went to bed later, were allowed a supper of bread and margarine
and cocoa.
Despite this grim diet all the children were pictures of health, with round pink
cheeks and full of vitality. The conditions and surroundings which seemed so
terrible to me then, and still more so in retrospect, were entirely normal to
them, as few of them remembered anything else.
Annual Day Out
On one day in the year those children who had relations or a home of sorts, were
allowed to be taken out by friends arid relatives. This was looked forward to
and counted on for weeks in advance, but it was noticeable that when they were
returned in the evening, all the children, without exception, seemed glad to be
back. We would overhear remarks of varying degrees of disgust and
disillusionment being exchanged about the respective houses to which they had
been taken, and
they all noticed the coarse voices and accents of their own relations.
Those children who had nowhere to go would be taken out for a bus ride or some
other treat by one of the staff, and they had invariably enjoyed their day very
much more than those who had gone to relatives. The evening of the Wanderers’
return was a hectic time for the staff, The children were allowed to wear their
hair loose while away from the Orphanage, and there was always an appalling
amount of livestock to be washed and combed out of their heads. The two big
baths in the children’s bathroom were filled with hot water, generously laced
with some disinfectant, and into each of the baths would be popped three or four
little creatures, while the ladies, with rolled up sleeves and enveloped in vast
aprons, would cope with the accumulated dirt and vermin, in a haze of soap suds
and steam. It was an eye opener to me, and came as a very severe shock when I
realised the types of homes from which our clean, neat and well spoken children
had come. It was noticeable that none of them ever had anything to say about
their doings, with the exception of those who had remained at home in the
Orphanage for the day. The Orphanage was truly Home to them, and they were quite
unconscious of the conditions which were so appalling to me. Often middle-aged
women would call to see Aunt Janey, women who had been her orphans fifty or more
years ago, and many of whom were still happy and valued retainers in the
families to whom she had sent them on leaving her care. They were all quiet,
well-spoken women, with the unmistakeable good manners of the old type highly
respectable, family servant. They loved Aunt Janey, and were never tired of
recalling all that they owed to her in their youth, and would come back to see
her year after year with unfailing gratitude.
Terrible stories
Almost all our fresh faced, healthy girls had the most terrible stories behind
them. There were two sisters of about my own age, one of whom was the parlour
maid, and the other the student cook, They had come as tiny things of about
three years, and eighteen months. Ella, the parlour maid, and the older of the
two, had been a mass of sores from head to foot, and covered with bruises from
her father’s belt. Both were filthy and verminous, and Ella had been so
terrified that for months she would never sit at table with the others for
meals, but would snatch her food and gobble it under the table like a little
wild beast, She always showed such a desperate desire to hide herself that Aunt
Janey had provided a large tea chest in a dark corner, and that became Ella’s
abode for months, until the kind treatment and good food worked a cure. Rose,
the younger, had been too small for the brutal conditions to have had as much
effect on her, but she was slow witted and permanently deaf as a result. When I
knew them, both Ella and Rose were nice looking, well built girls, both very
sweet natured and gentle, and as healthy and contented as could be.
Another pair of sisters, of about fifteen and thirteen, were utterly unlike in
appearance and temperament. Their mother was alive but had abandoned her
daughters entirely, arid did not even know who their fathers were.
The father of Olivia, the elder girl, must have been of good family, for she had
fine features, an exquisite complexion and a quick and alert brain, She was a
holy terror, for something in her blood gave her a fierce resentment of the
inferior position for which she was being trained, and her proud, independent
nature and wild temper made her impossible to manage. But if Aunt Janey wanted
any intelligent assistance in the garden, or on any intricate job, it was always
Olivia that she preferred to any other. She had brains far above her birth, poor
child, and though she was the outstanding bane of my life, I always had a
sneaking liking for her. She was one Aunt Janey’s rare failures, for her
intelligence, combined with her intractable nature, drove her to very unpleasant
performances, and she had to be sent away to a Remand Home. I have often
wondered what eventually became of her.
The younger sister was slow and stupid, with a coarse face and a coarse mind,
and her father had obviously been a very different type from Olivia’s.
Esther
Another girl, one of the seniors, and a year or so older than myself, was a real
beauty, though her mother did not know which of half a dozen men was her father.
This girl, Esther, was so lovely that she was chosen to take the part of the
Blessed Virgin in the Christmas Tableaux at the Church which we attended. She
was as sweet and gentle as she was pretty. Finding that she had grown into such
a beauty, her mother turned up one day, and despite all Aunt Janey’s protests,
claimed her and marched off with her then and there. Everyone was terribly
anxious as to what had become of Esther, and nothing was heard of her for weeks.
Then a letter came to Aunt Janey from the English Chaplain in either Ostend or
Antwerp, saying that an English girl had made her way to him begging his
protection and asking him to write. After a great deal of trouble and
correspond, Esther returned, and we learned that her mother had deliberately
sold her into the White Slave Traffic. As soon as Esther had come to realise
what had happened to her, she had managed to make her escape before harm befell,
and had had the sense to make straight for the English Chaplain. I never heard
all the details of the case, but Esther stayed on at the Orphanage for some time
after her return, and was eventually found a good post, with a kind and
sympathetic family. With her pretty face
and charming nature, I believe she eventually became a lady’s maid.
Rules
One of the first things I was told on arrival was that I must never hug or pet
any of the children, emphatically never kiss them, and to avoid touching them
more than was absolutely necessary. This seemed a very harsh injunction, but I
learned later that it was not merely in order to enforce discipline and class
distinctions, Almost all the children were tainted to a greater or less degree
with some form of venereal disease, and the order was primarily for my own
protection.
Masses of junk
Beyond the playground was a cluster of buildings which had originally been
stables and coach-house, with living quarters above. One of these rooms was used
as the schoolroom, and was approached by an outside staircase. All the rest of
the building I seldom entered, but every available space seemed to be full up
with masses of junk. There were shelves and cupboards all over the place, every
one full of indescribable rubbish. Aunt Janey was a jackdaw to put all jackdaws
in the shade. She never threw anything away whatever. Even the children’s used
nibs from the schoolroom, she would have handed over to her, though what she
thought she would ever find to do with a lot of corroded and rusty nibs is more
than I could ever imagine. She kept every magazine and paper which came to the
house, and even the circulars and advertisements that were put through the door
had to be stored away. She was an expert carpenter, and delighted in putting up
shelves and more shelves in every available space throughout the house and the
stable buildings. Even the lavatory was lined from floor to ceiling with shelves
on which were kept every copy of Blackwoods Magazine from the first issue
onwards. After her death all these accumulations of years had to be sorted
through, and in and out among the rubbish and junk were found all sorts of
really valuable things. Among the piles of ancient magazines were found sheets
and sheets of early stamps, triangular Cape Colony and Penny Blues of priceless
value among other things. She would tuck all kinds of treasures away into the
most unimaginable corners, and then completely forget their hiding-place, and
very often their existence. Her Will was lost in this way, which led to endless
trouble and confusion and heart burnings throughout the family, but this came
later on. When the cupboards in the stable buildings were opened after her
death, several were found to have been stacked with the most exquisite old cut
glass of immense value, tumblers, wine glasses, decanters and every sort of
article, all of which had come from Madeira. The shelves however, had crashed
down under the weight of glass and years, and all this magnificent stuff was
nothing but a mass of splintered wreckage.
Schoolroom
The schoolroom was as grim and raw and bleak as were all the other children’s
apartments. The floor was bare boards, worn and roughened by years of scuffling
feet, and one of my greatest penances was having to supervise the weekly
scrubbing done by two of the older school children. It invariably meant that I
had to get down on hands and knees and scrub too, or it would never have been
finished in the allotted time.
Lessons
The actual lessons I quite enjoyed, and I think the children did too. Such
subjects as scripture and history I always told in the form of stories, and the
deadliness of the old fashioned spelling books, in
which columns of words were set out
to be learned by heart. It
enlivened into a game. I would write a long word, such as Mesopotamia, on the
board, and the children had to get as many words out of the
letters as they could in a given time.
The children thought this fine fun, and they taught the game to the older
house girls. It became so popular that we began to find pencils and scraps of
paper secreted in the beds, where they had been playing it on light evenings
after they were supposed to be asleep. Reprimands followed, but not of a severe
nature, as Aunt Janey seemed to pleased that I had introduced something which
gave all the children a real interest in learning, that she took a very lenient
view of the crime. My great difficulty lay in dealing with such a wide variety
of ages in the same room and at the same time. Naturally I had had no training
whatever for teaching, but I got through somehow, though at the expense of
severe strain and nervous exhaustion. My pupils ranged from tots of three or
four, just learning their alphabet, to hefty young things of fifteen and
sixteen.
Ellen
One of these older schoolchildren, was a most peculiar girl. She was a big,
bonny youngster, taller and much sturdier than myself, with a bright rosy face,
and lovely big brown eyes. Poor Ellen had however, a queer physiological
malformation, which caused her always to write backwards. Not only did she write
in “looking glass” fashion, but she also actually spelled the words backwards,
which caused me endless trouble in correcting her work. She should of course
have had expert treatment, but I gathered that the schooling had been in a very
difficult and much neglected condition before I came, owing to staff troubles,
and Ellen had been allowed to grow to her
fifteen years, without ever having been properly trained. She also had a
weak heart, which the doctor reported was on her right side, and was prone to
fainting fits. When Ellen fainted it was a major proposition to know how to cope
with her, as she was so plump and heavy. The younger ones had been taught to lay
her down on the floor, and raise her feet, and run for one of the ladies. One
day screaming pandemonium broke out in the playground, and a scurry of ten and
twelve year olds came dashing in for help. On rushing out we found that Ellen
had fainted again in one of the shelters. Several of the little ones, acting on
instructions, had climbed on the bench, and with three or four to each leg, were
assiduously standing the unconscious Ellen on her head. Even so, she was far too
heavy for them, and as we arrived all the tinies, together with Ellen and the
bench, collapsed in a shrieking heap.
Aunt Janey the Gardener
Beyond the stable buildings stretched a very large garden, where Aunt Janey
spent a great deal of time, as she was a keen and experienced gardener. She had
several vine houses, in which she grew the most magnificent black grapes. The
original cutting had come over with the de Brissac family many years before, and
bits of it had been distributed all round the various branches of the family.
In my own home in Gloucestershire we had a cutting of the de Brissac vine, and
as far as I know it is probably flourishing there still.
That is one of the great fascinations of vines, they are practically immortal,
and will outlive generations of their human tenders. Aunt Janey also went in for
bantams. They were of no earthly use either for eggs or table, but the old lady
liked them, which was more than most of us others did. Stevie, the little cock
bantam, was the most savage and aggressive little scrap of feathers imaginable.
When any one, other than Aunt Janey, went into the pen to feed them, Stevie
would make vicious dives at our shoe-laces and pull them undone. When we stooped
down to fasten them again, he would take the opportunity of pecking our hands,
and if he could fly up and grab a beakful of hair, his triumph was complete, and
he would race round and round the enclosure with the stolen hair trailing behind
him, squawking with delight.